


This Dark Day

by often_adamanta



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-03-23
Updated: 2008-03-23
Packaged: 2017-10-22 08:38:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/236183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/often_adamanta/pseuds/often_adamanta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Beta'd by <span class="ljuser ljuser-name_violettefemme"><a href="http://violettefemme.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://violettefemme.livejournal.com/"><b>violettefemme</b></a></span>.</p>
    </blockquote>





	This Dark Day

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by [](http://violettefemme.livejournal.com/profile)[**violettefemme**](http://violettefemme.livejournal.com/).

One day, Draco Malfoy snapped.

It sounds rather more dramatic than it was. There were no tantrums or sudden descents into gibbering madness. In fact, the only response he made initially was freezing in place with his fork halfway to his mouth. It stayed there for almost a full minute before Draco nodded sharply and excused himself from the table.

He walked slowly to his room, mind working in one last ditch effort at logic as he retraced his earlier thoughts.

He knew there was going to be another meeting tonight. The thought made him shudder. He'd survived a year of them and still hadn't adapted to the cruelty of the Dark Lord, or the cruelty he now knew existed in himself. He thought about it, and the tiny voice inside him once again interjected, _thanks so very much, but no. I don't want to go._

It wasn't the first time Draco's sorely underdeveloped conscience had chimed in like this, but today, for no discernible reason at all, even though he knew it most likely meant his death, Draco gave in to the voice.

He reached his bedroom, pulled on the hardiest clothes he owned, gathered a small, hidden stash of money, and hid his wand in the small vault in the wall. Hot summer air swirled around him as he strode out of the Manor on foot. He had no idea where he was headed, but he was without a doubt that it would be better than the place he was leaving.

He stopped thinking as he put as much distance between the Manor and himself as possible. There was only so much insanity he could entertain, and he'd reached his limit.

\-----

He traveled for a few days before finding a small, abandoned cottage. It was little more than a box with a roof, making even Hagrid's hut appear spacious, but it was dry. Draco preferred to think of it as a cottage, and so he did.

It also had a small bed and was stocked with a rather generous amount of canned goods, which was fortunate as Draco was starving.

Four hours later, he finally mastered the can opener and was able to eat.

\-----

There was a small stream near his cottage, but he only went there at dusk. It seemed a little crazy, even to him, but he felt too exposed during the day and knew first hand what occurred in the dark of night, and so he compromised with himself and only ventured out during the hazy hours of twilight.

He had two buckets and filled them every evening, one to wash with and the other to drink. He had, over the months, improved his small dwelling so that it looked more habitable than dilapidated, and Draco was almost sad that he would be forced to leave one day, either by the war finding him or by the true owner of his cottage, although that possibility seemed to grow smaller with every day he spent there, as if his sheer presence day in and day out made the cottage his own.

It was beginning to be bitingly cold, and the nights were growing increasingly longer, so it was fairly early in the day when Draco returned from gathering his two buckets of fresh water. He'd been wondering what he could do to keep them from freezing, but this musing was cut off sharply by the fact that his little cottage was occupied. He stood in the doorway, shocked and still, and looked into a very familiar face.

"Malfoy?" Harry Potter asked, pausing in his consumption of one of Draco's last cans of food. Harry's wand was in one hand, his eyes wide at Draco's sudden appearance.

 _Bugger_ , Draco thought faintly. Beneath the thin surface of shock, however, there was very little emotion toward Potter, other than a vague annoyance that he seemed to be able to use the can opener with no difficulties.

Apparently, he'd lost his hate for Potter the same way he'd lost his mind. It might have concerned him at one point but, then again, he was crazy now.

He set down the buckets next to the fireplace he was too afraid to light because of the smoke, sat himself in the empty corner of the cottage, and waited for Harry Potter to decide his fate.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked, finally.

Draco shrugged. The scope of the question seemed out of his reach.

Harry frowned. "Can't you speak?"

Draco shrugged again. He hadn't spoken in so long that he honestly didn't know.

" _Accio_ wand," Harry said, and waited, but nothing happened. Nothing would, Draco knew, unless Harry had actually summoned his wand from the Manor in which case it would take a while to reach them. Draco rather doubted the spell had been that strong. "Where's your wand?" he asked.

"The Manor," Draco answered. His voice sounded dusty and low. He cleared his throat but didn't elaborate.

Harry gave him a look and went back to eating.

\-----

Draco was rather confused.

After an hour or so, Harry seemed to have decided he was harmless and ignored him completely. Harry puttered about, thinking deeply and moving without aim. Draco stayed tense and quiet in his corner, waiting to see what Harry would demand of Draco. He knew the way things worked. He would have to give Potter some kind of payment in return for his continued safety and secrecy. He knew, quietly despairing, that he had nothing to give Potter, not one thing worth having.

Harry crawled into the small bed, almost collapsing, as if he'd only given into sleep because he physically could not go on. He propped up on one elbow and gave Draco a long, searching look. "You can join me," Harry said at last.

Draco felt shocked for the second time that evening, followed by a short wave of dizziness. He truly hadn't expected... but it was something he could certainly give, and it wasn't like touching Harry would be a hardship.

So he stood and moved over to Harry, sat down at the very edge of the bed, and then leaned in and kissed him.

Their lips were chapped and stuck together, ever so slightly, and Draco actually liked that because it seemed more honest and real than anything else had in a long time, and then Harry was pushing him away, violently, shoving him to the floor. Draco quickly crawled back to his corner, hands shaking with fear in a way they hadn't since he'd left.

"What," Harry said, sounding angry for the first time, "was that?"

Draco realized how very stupid he'd been, then. Harry probably wasn't looking for any type of payment, and even if he was, he would hardly want Draco. His head spun, panic clawing up inside of him. He wasn't used to dealing withGriffindors. Or anyone, really, at this point.

Harry was still watching him, but Draco had forgotten the question. "Please," he croaked, "Please. Don't make me leave."

Surprise and then understanding chased its way across Harry's face. A sad smile curled his lips, and there was still anger there, but it wasn't directed at Draco any longer. "As long as you don't try and hurt me or anything, I'm not going to make you leave. And you don't have to - do _that_ \- to convince me." He sighed. "I was offering to share the bed because it's the only one we have. It'd be warmer, too. Unless..." He trailed off, thoughtful. "Is it safe to do magic?"

"I don't know," Draco admitted shortly. "I don't."

Harry nodded and relaxed again. "I'm going to sleep." A pause. "Like I said, you can join me, if you want."

Draco thought a minute, then removed his boots and heavy cloak and crawled beneath the covers. Harry shifted, and Draco noted that it was a tight fit, but it was warmer, decidedly so, and Harry's breath was gently ruffling the hair at the back of Draco's neck. He fell asleep quickly.

\-----

It was rather ridiculous, Draco thought, to be living with Harry Potter. But he was.

This was the kind of absurdity that he had come to expect from his life, the same kind of absurdity as being forced into trying to kill the most powerful wizard alive, as almost being killed in a girls' toilet. There were other examples, other memories, but Draco pushed them away.

This was Harry Potter, his childhood rival and the ultimate enemy of the Dark Lord, a boy that Draco had made a fool of himself in front of too many times to count, and it was utterly absurd. And that was how Draco was sure that it was real and not some figment of his broken imagination. Even he wasn't crazy enough to have come up with this one.

\-----

"You're almost out of food," Harry said the next day.

"Mhmm," Draco agreed. He'd had enough for another week, but not with Harry staying there.

"Where do you get more?"

"I've been eating what I found here."

Harry looked surprised. "So you haven't been here long?"

Draco shrugged. "Dunno. Four months, maybe."

"Well, they haven't found a way to track apparition. I could go buy some more canned food."

"I have some money," Draco admitted.

"Muggle money?" Harry asked.

Draco snorted. "Not likely."

"Now there's the Malfoy I know. You've been acting..."

"Crazy?" Malfoy suggested. Harry raised his eyebrows and said nothing. "Don't bother yourself about it. It's not like you cared."

"No," Harry agreed. "But war changes things. I find myself missing things I hated. Like studying. I'd give anything to be studying forNEWTs right now. Hermione'd be going crazy, she - " Harry turned his head away, swallowing around the pain. "I'll go get the food."

Draco frowned and watched him disappear.

\-----

It was Harry's thrashing that woke him up. He was mumbling under his breath and felt as though he had a fever, and Draco really hoped he wasn't ill. He knew very little about healing and had no supplies.

  
Hopefully just a nightmare. "Potter?" he tried, so quietly that Harry probably couldn't hear over his breathing. Draco glanced around. No one would hear him if he yelled. "Harry," he said again, more firmly. "Please, Harry, wake up!"

Harry gasped and twisted. It wasn't working. Harry's arm moved in a wide arch, and Draco grabbed the wrist to keep it from hitting him. Harry's eyelids slowly opened, and his eyes burned an unnatural green. They stared at each other for a few minutes, before Harry screamed, "No!" He jerked up into a sitting position, a quick move on Draco's narrowly preventing their heads from colliding.

Harry was panting, and his eyes were wide but no longer glowing. He stared at Draco's thin fingers clamped around his wrist. Draco slowly loosened them and pulled away. Harry took a deep, shuddering breath and bent his knees up, curling them close. "Sorry," he mumbled, staring down.

Draco relaxed finally, feeling his panic drain away. "Are you okay?" he asked, softly enough that Harry could pretend not to hear.

"He's looking for you," Harry said. "Did you know that?"

Draco sighed. "I - assumed so."

"I thought it was because you had left," Harry said, and added in an undertone, "He hates traitors." A pause while Harry chewed his lip, considering. "But now I'm not so sure. Do you know why?"

"Apart from defecting? Not really. Maybe because I control the wards on the Manor."

"What? You could just lower them?"

"Not from here. But yes. The head of the family controls the Manor."

"Oh. So, you know about - that Lucius -"

"Is dead. Yes." He swallowed hard. It was the first time he'd said it aloud.

"I saw it happen," Harry admitted. "In a vision. It was. Well. Pretty horrible." He shook his head, as if to escape from the memories. "I used to see you sometimes, too." Draco turned away, refusing to look at the disgust and condemnation on Harry's face. "You always looked so unhappy. And determined, at the same time."

"I was," Draco whispered finally, when Harry didn't go on. "He didn't get into your mind, did he?"

Harry frowned, concentrating. "I don't think so," he said, hesitantly. "He can't stay in my head very long because it hurts him. At most, he saw that I'm with you. But not where we are," Harry reassured him quickly as alarm took over his features.

"Still," Draco said, voice a little high. "That's more than I'd like."

"Me too," Harry said, sounding pained. He paused. "Do you want me to leave?"

Draco looked up in surprise. "I can't make you do anything."

"I know," Harry agreed lowly.

Draco just stared at him for a long moment. He looked completely lost. Draco rubbed his eyes, suddenly feeling exhausted. "No," he said finally, knowing it was probably the stupid answer, but also the one he wanted to give. "Let's just go to sleep."

Harry nodded, and they settled down awkwardly in the small bed.

"Draco," Harry whispered into the darkness just as Draco's heart had finally slowed down, "I've been looking for you, too."

Draco shivered, and pretended to be asleep.

\-----

Harry had been gone for several days, but Draco wasn't worried. He might have been, except Harry had a way of not-dying, and Draco was convinced that he wasn't going to be coming back.

He had mixed feelings about this. It was a relief to have the small cabin to himself, and probably safer, but he'd gotten used to Harry puttering around, too. Used to not being alone. It was certainly colder at night under the thin blanket.

It was this problem that he was working on at the moment. He didn't know much about building, but filling in the cracks was bound to make things warmer, so he'd collected quite a bit of moss and was stuffing it in the various nooks and crannies in the walls. Draco was working on the only window when he saw movement through the cracked glass.

Immediately he dropped to the floor, stomach twisting painfully.

"Draco!" Harry yelled, laughing. He crashed through the door, wide smile on his face. It faded when he saw Draco cowering on the floor. "Oh, did I scare you?"

Draco glared.

"Right, yeah, sorry." The grin was back, irrepressible. "I did it, Draco! I got the last one!" He crossed the room and pulled him up. He was standing too close, the smell of smoke and sweat tickling Draco's nose.

"Are you wearing a _sword_?" he asked, retreating as if to get a better look.

"Oh, yeah. Sword of Griffindor."

 _Oh, is that all,_ Draco though, his mental voice bordering on hysteria, as Harry started pulling off his gear.

"I was keeping all this somewhere else, but, well. I can't go back there anymore." He didn't seem upset by the loss, still grinning widely.

"Harry," Draco said tightly, "You're bleeding."

Harry looked down at the sizable gash in his upper arm. "I forgot," he said, almost to himself. He pulled off his sweater and the shirt beneath, skin pale and goose-pimpled with cold. Draco tried not to look. "Um, I don't think I can reach. Would you?" Harry extended his wand hilt first, and Draco stared at it, shocked. "Honestly, Draco," Harry rolled his eyes. "I don't think you're going to hurt me."

Draco took the wand. The wood was warm and smooth against his fingers. Magic flowed through it, and the feel of Harry, and Draco took a deep breath at the sensations. He cleaned and closed the wound as best he could and handed back the wand. Harry was staring at him, no sign of pain on his face even though Draco knew that it hurt.

"You miss it, don't you?" Harry asked finally. Draco nodded, not sure he could give voice to the longing for magic inside of him, how it had taken him more than a month to stop reaching for his wand at every noise. "You'll get it back soon. Don't worry." The smile crept back on Harry's face, subdued but there. "I'm so close." He sighed.

Draco didn't ask. He made Harry sit down, put on a somewhat clean shirt, and then opened him a can of soup.

\-----

Draco really wished he could blame his attraction to Harry as part of the crazy, but it wasn't new. It matched how he used to feel in school, the slow burn in his bones, now scraped clean of hostility and confusion into a sharp, concentrated heat. He usedOcclumency to keep himself from obsessing too much, but Draco agreed with his former self in this one thing: wanting Harry Potter was infuriating.

\-----

"Here, I bought some real food," Harry said.

That didn't seem like a particularly safe thing to do, but the smell alone was so wonderful that Draco wasn't going to argue with him. He could feel his mouth start to water as Harry opened the containers.

"It's not much, just fish and chips. I was on the coast today." He pushed Draco's portion toward him. "I couldn't stand eating canned anything tonight." He shuddered for effect, a slight smile raising the corners of his mouth.

Steam rose gently from the food, and Draco lowered his face to take a deep breath, enjoying the vinegary smell. He broke off a piece of fish and savored it, a small sound of pleasure escaping at the wonderful taste. He glanced up to find Harry staring at him. He raised one eyebrow, and Harry blinked and stuffed a chip in his mouth.

He ignored Harry the rest of the meal, giving his full attention to fish and chips. When he finished, he ran his fingers along the bottom of the wrapping and licked them clean. Harry pushed his half-finished meal toward Draco without saying anything, and Draco started in on that.

Harry sighed. "We need to talk."

Draco froze with a piece of fish halfway to his mouth, eyes flashing up to Harry, the food suddenly heavy in his stomach. He put the fish back on the plate and sat back. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, really. I just." He sighed. "I have to ask you something." He fidgeted in his seat for a long moment, a crease forming between his eyebrows. When he spoke, his voice was strong and sure. "I'm ready to kill him."

"The Dark Lord?" Draco asked even though there was doubt as to who Harry meant. "Kill the Dark Lord?"

"Yes," Harry said firmly.

Draco realized his mouth was hanging open and quickly closed it.

"I hate to get you involved," Harry said and then pressed his lips together tightly, as if he couldn't quite bring himself to go on.

"You need me to lower the wards because he's at the Manor," Draco said matter of fact.

Harry jerked back in surprise.

"He'll probably have put up wards to prevent that since he knows I'm with you."

"He doesn't know," Harry said quickly.

Draco raised his eyebrows in disbelief. "How do you know that?"

Harry shook his head. "I just know that he has no idea where you are. And I thought the wards would only respond to you."

"Well, yes," Draco agreed slowly.

"Anyway, it doesn't matter," Harry hurriedly put in. "This is still my best chance of surprising him. But, listen - if you don't want to, just say so. I can find another way. It's your choice."

He probably could find another way, but Harry was right. This was his best chance.

Draco didn't want to go back. He'd planned not to, planned to hide until the fighting was over and then crawl out from the rubble and fear as a coward and a survivor, both. He'd known when he left that returning to the Manor would mean his death.

He stared at Harry's earnest, solemn face. He was the first person who'd ever really given Draco a choice in this whole mess. Dumbledore had tried, but he was dead, practically by Draco's own hand.

Draco dropped his gaze to the table and said, "Yes."

\-----

They were laying on their backs, pressed together in the tiny bed. It was bitterly cold, and Draco was exhausted. They'd spent the last five days planning, contingencies for every situation conceivable. He wanted to sleep, needed to sleep, but tomorrow was the day, and fear and nerves were crawling beneath his skin.

"It's going to be okay," Harry whispered. Draco sighed. "Hey. I mean it." His hand found Draco's and gripped it. Draco would have pulled away except for the small tremors he could feel in the pressure of Harry's fingertips. He obviously needed this too. "We're going to make it through this," Harry said, soft and fierce, his grip tightening. "I promise."

Draco turned to look at him and found his face startlingly close. He paused a minute, and then deliberately stopped thinking. Draco inched closer and pressed their lips together. Harry jerked back, and Draco waited to be thrown from the bed, but Harry just let out a shaky breath and shook his head. "Draco, you don't have to do that. I'll still promise. You don't have to - "

"I _want_ to," Draco cut in, laying three fingers across Harry's mouth to silence him. "I _choose_ to." He couldn't tell if Harry understood because the room was too dark, but Harry didn't pull away when Draco replaced his fingers with lips and kissed him, slow and shallow. Harry remained still, and after a minute, Draco stopped. He ran his thumb over Harry's cheekbone and started to move away when Harry suddenly closed the distance between them and kissed him back. It was rough and passionate and absolutely wonderful. Harry's hand wrapped around the sharp curve of his hip and up to his too thin waist, and Draco suddenly wished that he hadn't started this, because he was dirty and half-starved and weak with fear, but Harry caught Draco's bottom lip between his teeth and the thought was gone again.

Draco opened his mouth, and Harry took the invitation, pushing his tongue into Draco's mouth. He rolled them slightly so that Draco was on his back and Harry was hovering over. Draco pulled him closer, loving the feel of Harry, firm muscles and sharp bones and deliciously warm body-heat. He freed the hand Harry was still gripping and pushed both his cold hands beneath Harry's jumper to warm them against his back. Harry let out a hiss and bit his tongue playfully in retaliation. Draco used his grip to pull Harry even closer so that most of Harry's weight was on Draco and their erections pressed together for the first time.

"Oh god," Harry choked out and tentatively thrust his hips. Draco arched into the movement, wordlessly crying his approval as Harry found his lips again, kissing him fiercely and beginning to move.

It was short, and desperate, and achingly good. Harry cried out as he came, and the scent of him, sweat and come, pulled Draco's orgasm from him, twisting up into Harry's limp body to get more contact, mouth open but no sound escaping. Neither said anything, panting and cooling down quickly in the freezing air. Harry found his wand and cleaned them up, and Draco was too sated to question the use of magic. Harry pulled the thin blanket up higher and rolled off Draco.

"No, please - " Draco started and cut himself off.

"What?" Harry whispered.

Draco paused. "Come back," he said, tugging on Harry's jumper to get him closer, arranging them so that Harry was once again a warm weight pressing down against Draco.

"Oh," Harry said, sounding please. He shifted slightly, finding a comfortable position. Draco put one hand on Harry's waist, skin on skin. Comforted, he drifted off to sleep.

\-----

Harry apparated them to the edge of the Manor's grounds in a heavily wooded grove. They were already wearing Harry's cloak, and he once again hadGriffindor's sword hanging from one hip, although he supposedly shouldn't need it. Draco hadn't asked.

Their first goal was to get Draco's wand. He had minimal control of the wards without it, but to get Harry's team inside, he'd need it.

They moved carefully, Harry's hand clenched in Draco's, both out of nerves and for physical contact to prevent the wards from giving them away. It was an old loophole, one that Draco suspected had been developed to help the master of the house get away with affairs. Harry kept a watch out for people, wand at the ready, while Draco guided them though the Manor, eyes open for any kind of warding that would give them away. Soon they were in his bedroom. Draco laid his hand against the section of wall where the vault was and after a minute it opened to reveal a small hollow, his wand resting inside.

"Won't they have found it by now?" Harry had asked when as they planned.

"It only opens for those with Malfoy blood. My father wouldn't have given them my wand, and now I'm the only one who can open it."

Harry hadn't been convinced, but here it was. Draco reached out and grabbed it, careful not to let his hand linger outside of the cloak. Magic lit up inside of him, the familiar and comforting feel of his own wand with him again. He permitted himself a small smile and quickly adjusted the wards to allow Harry. The change was so small that no one but him would feel it. More dangerous was admitting the rest of Harry's team. They'd decided to open a small hole in the wards as opposed to dropping them completely, hoping to keep the element of surprise as long as possible, but this meant going back out to the edge of the property.

Fifteen minutes later, they were back where they started. "We're good so far," Harry whispered as Draco opened a small hole and McGonagall strode through. Draco couldn't see her because the whole group was disillusioned, but he could feel the wards admit her. The Weasley twins followed, and even as he concentrated on keeping them all hidden, a part of his mind was having a panic attack. This was by far the craziest thing he had ever tried to do, which was saying something when he thought about his other predicaments.

"Everyone here?" Harry whispered.

There was a chorus of quiet affirmatives. McGonagall quickly disillusioned Harry as well, and Draco donned the Death Eater robes that they'd taken from his room so that everyone could follow him. He could sense whereVoldemort was in the house, a vibration of magic that grated against his mind. He could feel Harry next to him as well, stronger and clearer, and he straightened up and strode toward the Manor once more, this time leading the Order into battle.

They met only one other person on the way, but he said nothing. There was nothing unusual about robed figures in the Manor these days, and Draco moved as if he knew exactly where he was going and had every right to be there. He paused at the last turn and spoke to where he knew Harry was standing. "Around this corner and at the end of the hall," he whispered.

Harry took his hand and squeezed it in acknowledgement, but Draco held on when he went to pull away. "Take my wand," he said, pressing into Harry's hand. At the soft sound of argument, he continued, "You can't be sure yours will work against its brother, and he won't expect you to have two. Please," Draco added, "I want you to kill the bastard."

There was a ruffle of fabric and then Harry's invisibility cloak was draped over him. "Only if you keep this on," Harry whispered.

Draco pulled it more firmly around him, hiding the rest of the black robe in answer.

"Let's go," Harry breathed, and Draco could feel them moving away, toward the chamber down the hall which held the Dark Lord.

He followed a minute later, watching from the doorway as at some invisible signal, Harry's group fired off the first round of curses, taking down half the Death Eaters in the room.

Chaos followed, curses flying thick in the air, shouts of surprise and pain and anger filling the room. A slight figure with blond hair was thrown against the wall next to him. He grabbed his mother and pulled her into the hallway.

"Mother!" he hissed, as she began to fight against his hold.

"Draco?" she asked in wonder, then held him close and for a moment, he thought of nothing else. "I was so worried about you," she chided him softly as he finally pulled away.

"Not now, Mother," Draco murmured, pulling her under the cloak with him and returning to the doorway.

"Harry Potter!" the Dark Lord screeched, and with a wave of his wand lifted the disillusionment charms. Harry stood in the center of the room, wand at the ready, and the Order continued to fight around him. Another swish and Harry's wand flew into the Dark Lord's hand. He smiled coldly and made a show of putting it in his robe. "This ends now," he said, the sibilants drawn out low and menacing.

"Yes, it does, Tom," Harry agreed firmly, head held high.

"Avad-" the Dark Lord began, but Harry had pulled Draco's wand out and aimed in one smooth motion. "AVADA KEDAVRA!" he yelled before the Dark Lord could finish. The curse didn't just come from the wand - green glowed around Harry's entire figure as if the curse was coming from his very body and rushing through Draco's wand. It hit the Dark Lord with enough force to throw him across the room. Screams of horror and pain filled the room, including twin cries from Draco and his mother as the Mark was demolished, the magic breaking and unravelling, burning and burning as it self-destructed.

Draco took a deep breath as the pain ended and focused in time to see Harry plunge the sword through the Dark Lord's body, pinning him to the ground.

"Just in case," Harry said, and looked away in disgust. "Bloody well burn it later." He looked around the room, face pale and grimly satisfied, taking in the damage. Draco lowered his hood and Harry caught the movement, staring at Draco in the doorway and finally smiling. Draco returned it, but the expression quickly faded to horror as Bellatrix ripped herself free of the bonds holding her, madness giving her strength. She grabbed a wand off the ground as Harry began to turn. Draco didn't think twice: he launched himself at Harry, pushing him out of the way just in time. The bolt of purple light from Bellatrix's curse struck Draco firmly in the chest, and he fell to the floor.

"SECTUMSEMPRA!" Harry yelled, still on the ground. The curse took her down and she landed in a pool of blood, but no one moved to help her, all eyes on Harry crawling the few feet to Draco's side.

Draco was having trouble breathing. He hadn't recognized the curse, but he knew that Bellatrix had gone for the kill. Then Harry was there, eyes wide with panic. Draco coughed and blood filled his mouth, flowing out from one side.

"No," Harry said, pain and helplessness shadowing his eyes. "You can't go. I can't lose anyone else." Draco's mother was there, on her knees murmuring healing spells to try and save him. "Draco, please," Harry begged, as if Draco had a choice. "Don't leave me, too." He let out a strangled sob and leaned closer. "You should have let me die, you idiot," he said. Draco coughed again. "I love you," Harry whispered.

"I love you too," Draco said, but he wasn't sure he managed it because Harry didn't react. He cupped the side of Draco's face and kissed him gently, blood on his lips when he pulled away and tears falling onto Draco's face. Draco gave him a shaky smile and stilled. His breath caught in his throat, and he quietly, happily, died.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted at livejournal [here](http://often-adamanta.livejournal.com/188899.html).


End file.
